


Mario is Killing My Boner

by Bear_shark



Series: WinterHawk Goobers [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Natasha Romanov, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky is worried he's boring, Clint Barton is the best boyfriend, Cock Warming, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Kink Chicken, Lingerie, M/M, Natasha is evil and wonderful, Praise Kink if you squint, Roleplay, Sort of porn but not really with a dash of feeling, Unnecessary Ridiculousness, kink gone wrong, mentions of other kinks, not super explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bear_shark/pseuds/Bear_shark
Summary: Natasha said. “I just know that you’ve both been through a lot and maybe that’s why things are stalled out between you two… sexually.”“What?” Bucky exclaimed. He looked at Clint plaintively. “Help me out here.”“Don’t feed the trolls,” Clint murmured, not making eye contact.Or: Natasha convinces Bucky that he's boring in bed, and Bucky sets out to prove her wrong.





	Mario is Killing My Boner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Parrannnah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parrannnah/gifts).



> Y'all, this is just straight up ridiculousness. Like, more than I thought possible. I blame MCU Kink Bingo mods who gave me the amazing square: Kink Gone Wrong. At the time, I asked them to change it, because my eyes were closed to the potential of that prompt. Now I know better. 
> 
> Dedicated to @kat-atomic, who encourages me to write what I feel like writing, no matter how weird the idea.

It was just a normal day hanging out with Clint and Natasha when it happened.

“How are things going between you two?” Natasha asked innocently.

Bucky glanced at Clint. His boyfriend was ignoring their conversation in favor of building a complex, multi-tier house of cards.

“Fine,” Bucky said. Sure, they weren’t often affectionate in public like Tony and Steve were. But Natasha tended to be reserved, so Bucky assumed it was a holdout from his and Clint’s time as covert operatives. “Why, um, why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Natasha said. “I just know that you’ve both been through a lot and maybe that’s why things are stalled out between you two… sexually.”

“What?” Bucky exclaimed. He looked at Clint plaintively. “Help me out here.”

“Don’t feed the trolls,” Clint murmured, not making eye contact.

“Listen,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair and doing what Clint had explained was manspreading. “It’s really not a big deal if you two are vanilla. There’s no shame in that.”  

“Natalia,” Bucky said, trying for casual and failing. “Clint and I are world famous assassins with enough gear and weaponry to supply a small army. Of course we have an adventurous sex life.” He elbowed Clint who was still ignoring them. “Right?”

Clint was tellingly quiet. Natasha smirked and put her hands behind her head. She was trying out a new persona with short blond hair shaved on the sides and baggy pants and a tank top. Admittedly, it was working for her, but Bucky couldn’t think of a time it would come in handy for undercover work.

“Everything’s fine. You’ve slept with me and you’ve slept with Clint, you know we’re great in the… Wait, is this an intervention?”

Natasha pulled a toothpick out of nowhere and chewed on it. What was she going for? Sexy redneck? Hipster trucker? “Steve won’t let me mess with him anymore. I need a new project.”

For once, Steve might have the right idea. Clint was still focused on his cards and not paying any attention to Bucky’s dilemma.

“What would we even? Uh.” Bucky scratched the back of his neck uncertainly. It was his tell and Natasha knew it. Leaning over, he mumbled, “What do you suggest?”

Natasha handed him a hastily scrawled list. Bucky read it aloud. “Cock cages, ball gag, orgasm delay, wait…” Up close, the handwriting looked suspiciously like Tony’s. “Is this?!” Bucky dropped the paper like it was on fire. “Please tell me you didn’t just give me a list of what Steve and Tony… No. Just no.”

Natasha picked up the list and folded it neatly into her pocket. “Things were getting a little stale with them, so I made some suggestions. They loved it. Tony gifted me a whole basket of dildos as a thank you.”

“If you’re fishing for more dildos,” Bucky said, “you’re fresh out of luck. Besides, doesn’t Wilson get threatened by them?”

“Don’t feed the trolls,” Clint whispered, still not looking up from his project.

“Sam,” Natasha said primly as she leaned back in her chair, “is secure in his masculinity and just wants me to be satisfied in bed.”

The world had tilted on its side and the room was spinning. “There’s no way that. Uh uh. Are you saying Sam’s better in bed than us? Because we will--” Bucky wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, but it didn’t matter. Natasha had smelled blood in the water, and she attacked.

“Try a few things out. If you don’t like them, I’ll happily admit that boring is your kink.”

Everything in his mind was shouting abort! Abort! Abort. But his mouth was not cooperating. “And if we do like them? I’m not getting you sex toys.”

Natasha looked at him consideringly, as if she hadn’t decided ahead of time what she wanted out of him. “Photographic evidence.”

“Nope,” Bucky said. “I’ll give you one of my favorite grenades.” He elbowed Clint to get his boyfriend to come to the rescue, causing Clint’s hand to slip and the whole house of cards to come fluttering down.

“Aw, cards, no,” Clint said with a pout.

Bucky felt for him, he did, and normally he was helpless in the face of Clint’s pout. But they were at war, and he needed all hands on deck. “Natalia is saying we suck in bed.”

“We do,” Clint replied, pout disappearing as he grinned cheekily. “Literally.”

“Oh god,” Bucky said, covering his face with his hands. “That was a terrible joke. Don’t tell me she’s right.” He scowled at Natasha. “Do we have a deal? And if we don’t like the stuff, you’ll leave us alone.”

“As long as you and Clint really try some things out. I’ll know if you half-ass it.” She pulled another list from her other pocket, this time with her neat flowing script, and Bucky knew immediately this had been an ambush. “I’ve written some suggestions. Do at least three.” She got up and walked to the door with a little extra swagger in her step.

“How did she... Why did I agree to this?” He elbowed Clint again.“And why didn’t you come to my defense, jerk?”

Clint crawled on the ground hunting for cards that had fallen under the table. “I told you not to feed the trolls, babe. I don’t know what else you wanted me to do.”

Bucky read through the list. “What the hell is cock warming?”

\---

Later that night, Clint peered over Bucky’s shoulder as he looked up cock warming on the computer.

“So, like, no sucking or anything?” Clint said, as though this were too complicated to understand.

Bucky scrolled down farther. “Apparently some people ignore the person or say humiliating things, uh, no thanks on that part.”

“How long are you supposed to do it for?”

“Beats me, pal. Wait,” he picked out another article. “At least like thirty minutes according to this person. Although, why should we trust some rando on the internet?”

“We could ask Natasha,” Clint supplied helpfully.

Bucky rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Let’s just wing it.”

Clint moved to the couch, and Bucky grabbed the thickest pillow from their bed and knelt down in front of him. “All right, whip it out.”

“Such romance,” Clint grumbled, but dutifully unzipped his pants. “You’re going to get bored. Let’s put on a TV show or something.”

“Dog Cops?”

Clint pumped his arm happily. “Heck yeah. Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

“Excuse you!” Bucky said, leaning back with a scowl. “I’ll have my mouth on your dick. It should be awesome.”

“Oh, right, right.” Clint pulled his dick out through the slit in his boxers. “Well, uh, have at it.”

Bucky gathered his hair into a bun so it wouldn’t bother him while he went to work. He gently fed Clint’s dick between his lips enjoying the sensation of it fattening up in his mouth.

“Uh, so far so good,” Clint said, and at least there was a little strain to it. “I’ll turn on the show.”

Bucky couldn’t quite keep his mouth on Clint’s dick and watch Dog Cops at the same time, so he settled for listening and trying to clear his mind. It wasn’t quite meditation; he hadn’t been able to master that no matter how many CDs Sam lent him. But Bucky could focus on a target, a job, and let his mind zone out while he waited for his perfect moment. He didn’t lose focus; he was the goddamn Winter Soldier, and he could wait out anything.

“How’s it going down there?” Clint said. He was softening in Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky was adamantly not taking it personally.

“Fwine.” That bit of movement perked up Clint’s interest again, but not enough to get fully hard.

Clint rubbed the back of Bucky’s neck, pushing his thumb into the muscle to work out any knots. “I’m just saying if you’re getting bored, no biggie.”

Giving Clint a weak thumbs up, Bucky continued his job. He would not be the one to back out of this, no matter how sore his jaw was getting, and how sick he was of kneeling. Huh. Somewhere after cryofreeze, months of therapy, reuniting with his friends, and dating Clint, he’d gone soft. He didn’t entirely hate it.

“Babe,” Clint said gently. “Now you’re just drooling on my crotch and looking miserable.”

Bucky pulled off with a wet slurp. “Yeah. That one’s a no go. Let’s go to the next thing on the list.”

Batting his eyelashes, Clint leaned forward and kissed Bucky’s forehead. “After you blow me?”

“So demanding.” Bucky rolled his eyes again, but dutifully lowered his mouth onto Clint’s cock and sucked in earnest.

This, this was something he loved. The tensing of Clint’s thighs as he tried not to thrust. The tremble when he was about to come. Even the taste, musky and a little sour wasn’t so bad, and worth it for an up-close look at Clint falling apart.

“Baby. Oh. Babe. I’m gonna…” Clint came with a silent shout as he bit down on his fist.

Bucky gentled him through it, finally coming up to sit beside Clint on the sofa. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease. “You came faster than a teenager getting their first blow job.”

Clint slouched down and slung an arm over his face. “That cock warming thing was basically like being edged for thirty minutes. You try it and see if you don’t come right away.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Bucky said. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

“Want a hand?” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Bucky stood up and pulled Clint with him to the shower. “Of course I do, you asshole.”

\---

Steve sat next to Bucky in the common room a few days later. No one else was around, and odd thing in and of itself. He half suspected Steve had cleared the room.

After making a few pleasantries Steve said, “The thing about it is, you know, it’s not really about just holding a dick in your mouth. It’s more about being someone’s plaything.”

Bucky eyed Steve in mute horror. This was worse than the time Sister Marie caught him jerking off at the orphanage, worse than when his body detoxed from the suppressants Hydra had him on and he had a boner from a week. Worse than, well probably other things but that was all Bucky could think of at the moment.

“What?” Steve said. He wasn’t even blushing! This from the guy who had stumbled over his own shoes trying to talk to Molly Flannigan, and who used to turn bright pink at the mention of sex.

“WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?”

Steve looked at him quizzically. “Natasha said you had some questions but were too embarrassed to talk to her or look it up online.” He patted Bucky on the shoulder, and Bucky felt like he would burst into flames on the spot. That demon woman had set him up, and he would figure out a way to get revenge. Something subtle and crushing she’d never see coming.

“How did she even know we’d tried it?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s best to not pull on that thread, I’ve found. Besides, it’s just sex, Buck. We’re modern men now, and we can talk about these things. Tony has this cage that—”

“Nope,” Bucky said, covering his ears with his hands. “Stop. I would rather go back into cryofreeze than listen to more of this conversation.”

That, apparently, was a comment Steve didn’t approve of, because he gave Bucky some mix of his sad and disappointed face. Bucky felt a little bad; he knew Steve didn’t like to be reminded of those days. “I’m sorry, pal.”

Steve’s answering smile was a little watery but sincere. “No big deal. I just want you to know that recovering and exploring your sexuality is an important part of healing.”

Bucky wiped a hand down his face. “So this is still happening. I’m fine. We’re fine. Things are good. I just don’t understand why I gotta,” he waved his hand nonsensically in the air, “do all the bells and whistles. I mean, great you like it, and please don’t tell me details, but I just wanna get off and cuddle.”

“That’s not so bad,” Steve said softly. “Nothing wrong with knowing what you like. But it can’t hurt to try some things out.”

“If it will get you to stop talking about this, I will try the next thing on she who must not be named’s list.”

Steve grinned, clearly missing the Harry Potter reference. “That’s great! Let me know what you find out.”

Bucky stood and walked to the door. “Steve, if we never talk about sex again it will be too soon.”

\---

Bucky returned to his apartment and flopped down on the bed next to Clint. “I just had the worst conversation of my life.”

“Eep. Worse than the time Tony convinced Sam that your amnesia made you forget all about the birds and the bees, and Sam tried to teach you sex ed?”

Bucky groaned, rolled over, and hid his face in Clint’s armpit. “Why would you make me remember that, you jerk?” He snuggled in closer. Despite the jokes about Clint being slovenly, he actually smelled great most of the time. Bucky figured it was some mix of pheromones and Old Spice, but whatever it was, he was hooked. “This was even worse. Steve thinks we should be kinkier.”

Clint huffed a laugh. How he wasn’t upset about this, Bucky had no idea. “Should we pick out something from the list?” Bucky nodded wordlessly, and Clint fished the list off the bedside table.

“Let’s see,” Clint said, as he perused the options. “Dominant and submissive dynamics, figging, whatever that is, pet play—”

Bucky looked up. “What’s pet play?”

“I think one of you pretends to be a cat or something.” He scritched Bucky behind the ears. “You would make a cute puppy.”

“Pass,” Bucky said flatly.

Clint shrugged. “Me, too. Uh, humiliation is on here, but we decided against that.”

“Agreed. And restraints are…” Bucky shuddered. Restraints brought up bad memories he’d rather not bring into the bedroom. “No go for me.” He squished his face into Clint’s armpit again and mumbled something. Clint poked him with a finger repeatedly until Bucky turned to the side and said, “I don’t think I could tie you down, either. I’m sorry I’m—”

“If you say broken, I’m not touching your dick for a week.” Clint rolled over, so they were face to face. “We’ve been through some shit, but we’re still standing. I mean, not at the moment, but—”

“So eloquent,” Bucky snorted.

“You love me.” Clint rolled onto his back and grabbed the list again. “What about some role play? This says sexy plumber and housewife or boss and secretary.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. He was a trained covert operative, so he could probably improvise a role without too much difficulty. “The first one sounds workable. I’ll be the housewife.”

Clint grinned and kissed Bucky’s temple. “Sounds good.”

\---

Bucky thought about getting a costume or a new outfit. He’d settled on shaving and pulling up his hair. Clint thought he was hot, there was no need to do much. Still, he paced back and forth and damn near crawled up the walls waiting for Clint to come in.

“Plumber here,” Clint said from outside the apartment. He knocked on the door and Bucky rushed to open it. “I hear you are having a problem with your pipes,” Clint said, giving Bucky a full body leer.

Clint’s costume was, well, it was something. Red overalls, a cap, and a fake mustache.

“What are you wearing?” Bucky exclaimed, looking at his boyfriend pure shock.

Clint glanced down at himself feigning surprise. “Tony said this is what plumbers wear. I mean, I figured I’d go all out, so…”

“You’re supposed to be wearing cargo pants and a tank top, maybe carrying a hammer or something.”

Clint leaned against the still open door. “I can think of something I’d like to hammer.”

“Nope. Not like that.” Bucky swiveled and walked away, reality hitting him a few steps in. “You’re just messing with me!”

Giving what Bucky called his “innocent orphan” look, Clint said, “Would you believe me if I said I grew up in the circus and didn’t know what a plumber should wear?”

Bucky’s answering glare was withering. Clint held his hands up, unable to keep a straight face. “Okay, okay. I was going to take it seriously at first, but then Tony said it would be hilarious to do this, and he overnighted the costume, so—”

“Tony!?”

“What? I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. Steve can’t exactly keep a secret. Besides,” he waved at Bucky’s sweats and t-shirt, “you didn’t seem like you were too into this.”

Bucky had to give him that one. He should have at least worn an apron. “But I was looking forward to the sex.”

“Ooh,” Clint said, stepping closer. “Top or bottom?”

Clint caught Bucky’s around the waist, but Bucky leaned away, not letting him kiss. “I’m not talking to you until you’re out of that costume.”

“Why?”

Bucky twisted free and walked down the hallway toward their bedroom. “Mario is killing my boner.”

“You would have preferred Luigi?”

Bucky turned around and pointed a finger at Clint viciously. “ _Everyone_ prefers Luigi!”

“Debatable.” Clint shut the door and pulled the mustache off in a hurry, leaving behind a patch of red skin. He tossed the hat to the side and struggled out of his overalls. “Wait for me!”

“Ugh,” Bucky said. What had happened to his life? “Fine. But you’ve gotta make the outfit up to me. I get to come two times.” He stalked away.  

Clint chased after him and grabbed his hand. “You always come two times, Mr. super serum hair trigger.”

Bucky halted while Clint was still holding on, making his boyfriend rebound back against him. “You’ve never complained about it before.”

Clint smiled indulgently at him. “You also stay hard between takes and don’t need rest breaks. I’m not complaining.” He pulled Bucky behind him. “Now, let’s get to it.”

Bucky let himself be dragged to the bedroom, smiling at Clint’s eagerness.

\---

A few days later, Sam knocked on the door to Bucky and Clint’s apartment, and Bucky answered it.

“I brought bagels,” Sam said. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Thank fuck,” Bucky said, grateful it wasn’t Clint in another ridiculous outfit. “I’m starving and we’re out of food.”

Sam followed him into the apartment. “Doesn’t JARVIS keep things stocked for you guys?”

Bucky sliced up a few bagels and popped them into the toaster. “We’re not comfortable letting people in when we’re not around. Takes too long to check for bugs and do a perimeter sweep each time. So we do our own cleaning and get our own food.”

Sam wrinkled his nose and glanced around the untidy apartment. “I’m guessing neither is done well.”

Bucky shrugged and pulled some cream cheese from the fridge. “It’s Clint’s week, and well…” Bucky didn’t really care. Clint made up for his sloppiness and forgetfulness in other ways, and Bucky didn’t mind cleaning up the mess when it was his week to do so.

Once they were seated at the table, Sam leaned forward, and oh fuck that always meant they were about to have a Talk.

“I don’t know what this is about, but I didn’t do it,” Bucky said. “Or if I did, I was mind-controlled at the time. So—”

“Natasha said you wanted to talk about sex and recovery from trauma.”

“Natalia is a hellspawn brought to life, and I said nothing of the sort.”

Sam frowned and crossed his arms. Bucky had to give it to him, Sam had never been intimidated by him, even when he was in full Winter Soldier gear. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

“Big deal,” Bucky huffed. “She’s my ex-girlfriend and my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend and best friend. Plus you know what she’s like.” Because the universe decided Bucky had suffered enough for one day, Sam mercifully held back a wisecrack.

“All I’m saying is I took a while after I came home from Afghanistan to figure things out, and I imagine it would take even longer for you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Bucky wanted to scream. To flip a table. Really, he wanted to run to his bedroom to hide. “You should talk to Steve, not me. He said something about cock cages, and…” Bucky shivered. “More than I ever wanted to know about him.”

Bucky had hoped that tidbit would be enough to scare Sam off, but apparently, he was too damned professional to flinch. “Don’t think about the dom and sub dynamics as bad or abusive. It’s okay to like that, it doesn’t mean you’re the Winter Soldier. Nat likes to domme with me, and it’s not a Red Room thing. Or, it is, and that’s how she’s working it out. She likes to be in control of the experience, and I like her doing that—”

“Why is everyone talking to me about their sex life!” It made Bucky long for the times when he sat stoically in the corner and everyone avoided him. Maybe he should reprise his blank eyed stare. “I don’t need to know about whatever fancy modern sex shit—”

Sam laughed, unimpressed by Bucky’s antics. “Kink is not a recent invention. I’ve got something called the Kama Sutra that will blow your mind.”

“No, thank you.”

Sam punched his arm companionably. “All right, all right. But if you ever need to talk—”

“I’ll go to that expensive therapist Stark found for me. Not you.” Bucky said, studiously avoiding eye contact.  

“But your dick still works, right?” Sam said. “Cause Bruce could get you some Viagra.”

Bucky turned his fury full on Sam, only to be met with a shit-eating grin. “What is this? Are you pranking me? You’re an asshole!”

Sam couldn’t hold a straight face and ended up laughing so hard he fell to the side. “Your face! Oh my god! JARVIS, did you take a picture?”

“JARVIS is disabled in our apartment unless it’s an emergency,” Bucky said with a scowl. Sam’s laughter, the easy camaraderie, softened some of Bucky’s frustration, not that he’d let Sam know that.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Let’s watch something. I can’t leave now or my girlfriend will be disappointed in me for not having a breakthrough with you.”

\---

Clint came home several hours later, and Sam had long since left. Seating by himself on the couch, Bucky wasn’t pouting. He was a fearsome soldier and the mere thought of him struck terror in the hearts of others. He didn’t pout.

“What’s wrong?” Clint said. He’d actually bought groceries, god bless him. Bucky wasn’t going to have to eat a banana and beer for dinner.

“That demon woman sent Sam to talk about our sex life. Why is she like this?”

Clint left the bag of groceries on the counter, and Bucky knew he was unlikely to remember to unpack it. He hopped up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to do it himself.

“Maybe because she’s in a good relationship and has friends? She’s happy, and she wants the people around her to be happy. Granted, she’s _bad_ at helping people because the Red Room etcetera, so she doesn’t always get the difference between helping and torture.”

It seemed like a convoluted excuse to him, but Bucky didn’t want to argue about Natasha’s motives. He finished putting away the groceries and jumped up beside Clint on the counter. “I’m happy. I don’t need her messing with our sex lives. We’re fine just the way we are.”

Clint pulled the list out of his pocket and skimmed it. “Then why am I wearing lacy underwear?”

“You’re what?!” Bucky swallowed dryly. “That’s. Oh. Can I see?”

Clint rolled the top of his jeans down to reveal black satin underwear with a lace fringe. Reaching forward slowly, Bucky ran his finger along it, enjoying the smoothness of it. The delicacy.

“You like it?” Clint grinned at him, knowing full well the answer.

Bucky hopped down, threw Clint over his shoulder and marched to the bedroom. Clint cackled and pounded half-heartedly for Bucky to let him down.

Once they got to the bedroom, Bucky set down Clint gently. “I need you to take off your clothes, like, yesterday.”

The lingerie was a study in contrast—feminine on Clint’s masculine, muscular form, the softness of the fabric stretched across Clint’s hard cock.

As soon as Clint took off his pants, Bucky dropped to his knees. He rubbed his face against Clint’s cock, the stubble of his cheek catching on the fabric of the panties. “I don’t know if I want to blow you or fuck you.”

Clint’s nails scritched along Bucky’s scalp until he gathered Bucky’s hair into his fist and yanked. “I think you want to have me fuck you while I wear them.”

Bucky sat back on his feet, mouth wide open. Shit, that was what he wanted. It was another contrast, unexpected but welcome, his goofy, laid-back boyfriend taking control in the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he said in a daze.

Clint grinned, the normal sweetness replaced by something predatory. “Here’s what you’re going to do: take off your clothes, lean over the bed and stay there.”

Bucky had a hard time catching his breath, super serum be damned. “And then what?”

“I’m going to eat you out until you're trembling, and then rail you so hard all you’ll be able to say is my name.”

“Hawkeye or Clint?”

Clint snorted a laugh. “Of course you’d say that. Don’t sass me, Barnes.”

Holding up his hand like he was back in grade school, Bucky said, “Counteroffer: you let me blow you just a little, and then we switch to your plan.”

Clint heaved a great put-upon sigh and put his hands on the top of his head. “If you absolutely insist…”

Bucky was on him before Clint could finish the sentence, mouthing wetly at Clint’s cloth-covered dick.

“Damn,” Clint moaned. “Your hot mouth was made for that.”

The praise lit up the whole of Bucky’s spine, shooting fireworks to his fingers. Huh, he thought. Maybe he was kinkier than he realized.

-

Bucky rarely cared what position they were in, but today he wanted to see Clint’s face, to trace the perspiration as it collected on his collarbone and dripped down his chest. Natasha liked to joke that Clint sweated like a pig, but Bucky liked it—the salty taste and the smell of Clint’s good, clean sweat.

“Right there,” Bucky moaned after a particularly good thrust. He was on his back with his legs slung over Clint’s shoulders. “Don’t stop.”

Clint kissed the inside of Bucky’s shin, pounding harder. Clint liked to be fucked gently, but Bucky liked it rough, athletic, like fucking was an Olympic level sport, and he and Clint were going for the gold.

“You look so pretty taking my cock,” Clint growled, causing Bucky to moan again. Jesus Christ, no one called the Winter Soldier pretty, but holy hell did he like it.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky said, arching his back as much as he could. “Give it to me.”

Clint’s rhythm faltered, and he looked at Bucky in unconcealed shock.

“What?” Bucky said, eager to get Clint moving again.

“You never.” Clint bit his lip, looking honest to god choked up. “I just thought pet names weren’t your thing.” He eased Bucky’s legs down, bent over and kissed him carefully, not like he was breakable, but like he was precious, a gift.

“Clint, you know I love you, right?”

Clint nodded, moving his kisses to Bucky’s neck and circling his hips.

It hit Bucky then. He’d called Clint asshole, jerk, pal, but the softness, the casual affection—it was hard for him. Clint deserved someone who knew these things already, who could love him easily and without practice.

“I used to be good at this,” Bucky said hoarsely.

“You’re great at this.” Clint sucked a mark on Bucky’s neck and leaned back to admire his work. Slowly, he raised his thumb to the mark and pushed, causing Bucky to hiss in pleasure.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Bucky said.

“You too, babe.”

-

When they were done, collapsed in a pile of sweat, come and ruined lace, Bucky rested on his side with his head on Clint’s shoulder. “You know, I don’t remember lingerie being on Nat’s list.”

Clint kissed the top of Bucky’s head, careful not to jostle him. “I made my own list.”

“Yeah?” Bucky feeling impossibly fond. “I can’t wait to read it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yup. Goofy. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
